*  APR.  1  1902   * 


RV  4501  .P87  1901 

Jirves,  George  T.  1852-1901 

Joy  in  service 


JOY    IN   SERVICE. 

FORGETTING,  AND  PRESSING 
ONWARD. 

UNTIL  THE  DAY  DAWN. 
Rev.  GEORGE  T.  PURVES.  D.  D.,  LL.  D. 


THE  TEACHER  AND    PASTOR. 
Prest.  F.  L.Patton,  D.  D.,  LL.  D. 


AMERICAN   TRACT   SOCIETY 

150  Nassau  Street,  New  York 


Copyright,  iqoi, 
By  AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


CONTEMTS 


PAGE 

Joy  in  Service, 7 

"Jesus  saith  unto  them,  My  meat  is  to  do  the 
will  of  him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  his 
work." 

Forgetting,  and  Pressing  Onward,      .      45 

"  Forgetting  these  things  which  are  behind, 
and  reaching  forth  to  those  things  which 
are  before,  I  press  towards  the  mark  for 
the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in 
Christ  Jesus." 

"  Until  the  Day  Dawn,"        ...      83 
"  The  things  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal." 


The  Teacher  and  Pastor,      ...      87 

Address  of  Dr.  F.  L.  Patton,  at  the  funeral  of 
Dr.  Purves. 


"Jesus  saitk  unto  them.  My  meat  is  to  do 
the  will  of  him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  his 
work." — John  4:  34. 


JOY  IN   SERVICE. 


This  is  one  of  the  sentences 
that  dropped  from  the  lips  of 
Christ,  which  let  us  into  his  per- 
sonal spiritual  life  and  in  some 
measure  lay  bare  his  mind.  To 
be  permitted  thus  to  share  his 
confidence  is  one  of  our  greatest 
privileges.  Viewing  him  from  a 
distance,  we  may  admire  his  char- 
acter ;  viewing  him  in  history,  we 
may  confess  his  incomparable 
power  ;  viewing  him  when  convin- 
cing us  of  our  own  sin,  we  may 
adore  him    as    our    Saviour  ;    but 


3o^  in  Service, 


we  desire,  and  may  have,  a  still 
more  intimate  acquaintance.  He 
tells  us  about  himself.  He  de- 
scribes here  and  there  his  personal 
inner  life.  He  permits  us  to  share 
his  secrets,  and  all  that  we  other- 
wise feel  of  reverence,  admiration, 
and  gratitude  gives  new  value  to 
these  disclosures  of  the  spiritual 
life  of  the  God  in  man. 

Now,  in  the  words  before  us, 
Christ  describes  his  joy  in  the  serv- 
ice of  the  Father.  They  reveal 
a  devotion  so  complete  as  to  en- 
tirely control  his  mind.  They 
reveal  a  soul  so  absorbed  in  doing 
the  Divine  will  as  to  be  insensible 
for  the  time  to  ordinary  physical 
needs.  They  reveal  a  self-conse- 
cration which  is  absolute,  and  yet 
which  is  so  spontaneous  and  glad 
as  to  be    self-sustaining  ;    so   that 


50K?  in  Service. 


Christ  needed  no  other  support  in 
serving    the..  Father   than    simply 
the  opportunity    of  such    service. 
We,  on  the  contrary,  require  sup- 
port to  enable  us  to  serve.     We 
must  be  rewarded  for  our   work, 
must  be  encouraged  by  sympathy, 
must  be    fed    with    promises   and 
spiritual    gifts,    in     order    to    be 
strong   enough    to    do   our   duty. 
Christ  found  duty  its  own  reward, 
service     itself    joy,    obedience     a 
source  of  renewed  strength.     His 
will  was   one  with    the   Father's ; 
and  thus  he  discloses   the,  to   us, 
marvelous    spectacle    of   one  who 
could  truly   say,  Not  my  desire  or 
my  duty,   or  my   purpose   is,   but 
my    meat — my    food — my    source 
itself  of  life  and  strength — is  to  do 
the  will  of  God,  and  to  finish  h-is 
work. 


lo         3os  in  Service. 

And  yet  our  Lord  Jesus  was  a 
very  genuine  man.  He  did  not 
impress  observers  with  the  com- 
mon insig-nia  of  holiness.  It  was 
the  Pharisees,  not  Christ,  who 
stood  at  the  corners  of  the  streets 
to  make  long  prayers,  who  en- 
larged the  borders  of  their  phy- 
lacteries and  chose  the  chief  seats 
in  the  synagogues.  It  was  the 
Baptist,  not  Jesus,  who  clothed 
himself  in  a  garment  of  camel's 
hair  and  ate  locusts  and  wild 
honey.  Jesus,  on  the  contrary, 
lived  the  outward  life  of  other 
men,  consorted  with  them  in  their 
usual  places  of  resort,  dressed  and 
spake  as  they  did  ;  so  that,  in  out- 
ward manner,  it  was  impossible  to 
distinguish  him  from  the  common 
mass  in  which  he  moved.  All  the 
more    precious,  therefore,   is    this 


5o^  in  Service. 


revelation  of  his  inner  life.  What 
a  soul  was  his  !  The  thought  up- 
permost in  his  mind  was  devotion 
to  the  Father's  will.  The  joy 
which  most  gladdened  his  lonely 
life  was  the  joy  of  unknown,  but 
sublime  and  perfect,  obedience. 
He  had  been  pointing  a  Samaritan 
woman,  sitting  by  the  wellside,  to 
the  salvation  of  God  ;  and  though 
she  was  but  one,  and  that  to  human 
eyes  an  unworthy  subject, — though 
she  was  a  Samaritan  and  an  open 
sinner, — his  soul  found  such  in- 
tense pleasure  m  bringing  her — as 
the  Father  had  sent  him  to  bring 
men  anywhere — to  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth,  that  fatigue  and  hun- 
ger were  forgotten,  and  all  his 
energies  were  absorbed  in  the 
delight  of  the  task.  In  this  I  think 
Christ  appears  simply  Divine.     No 


5o\?  in  Service. 


later  fame  or  success,  no  gaudy 
robes  of  human  praise,  no  gilded 
crown  of  human  admiration,  are 
needed  to  adorn  him.  He  dis- 
closes the  very  ideal  of  a  godly 
life.  All  our  poor  efforts  at  obedi- 
ence, all  our  faint  aspirations  after 
the  knowledc*-e  and  love  of  God, 
all  our  unfulfilled  prayers,  and 
falline  fliof^its,  and  unredeemed 
promises  and  sin-stained  attempts 
to  serve,  confess  the  ideal  perfect- 
ness  of  him  who  could  truthfully 
say,  "  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will 
of  him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish 
his  work." 

I.  Let  us  first,  then,  draw  a  little 
closer  to  this  peerless  soul,  in 
which  there  was  such  perfect  sense 
of  the  worth  of  infinite  things,  and 
let  us  note  more  particularly,  and 
appreciate  as  far  as  wc  are  able, 


So^  in  Service.         13 

this  phase  of  the  character  of  the 
Son  of  Man. 

I  have  said  that  Christ  was  a 
very  natural  man.  But  he  was 
more  than  that.  I  am  sure  that 
none  can  study  his  character  with- 
out admitting  and  admiring  the 
perfect  proportion  in  which  truth 
evidently  lay  in  his  mind.  This 
is  one  of  the  rarest  beauties  of 
character.  Most  of  us  are  very 
one-sided.  We  can  grasp  but  a 
part  of  truth ;  and  in  order  to 
grasp  that  part  firmly,  we  have  to 
absolutely  let  other  truth  go.  In 
order  to  be  devoted  to  duty  as  we 
see  it,  we  commonly  have  to  leave 
other  duties  untouched.  Our  spir- 
itual growth  ought  to  take  just 
this  direction  of  includino-  broader 
views  of  truth  and  duty,  of  ob- 
taining  a   conception    of   life    in 


14        3o>s  in  Servjfce. 


which  the  various  elements  shall 
be  held  in  their  proper  relations 
and  proportions ;  no  one  allowed 
to  eclipse  the  others,  but  each 
modified  to  a  proper  extent  by  the 
presence  and  influence  of  the  rest. 
I  say  this  is  a  rare  achievement. 
No  one  but  Christ  has  ever 
achieved  it  perfectly.  It  is  easy  to 
see  that  even  the  apostles,  inspired 
as  they  were,  did  not  equally  ap- 
preciate all  sides  of  revelation. 
They  have  their  distinguishing 
doctrines  and  points  of  view. 

It  is  still  easier  to  see  that 
Christian  churches  and  theolo- 
gians differ  for  this  same  reason, 
and  to  a  much  greater  extent.  No 
creed,  no  church,  no  theology,  that 
builds  on  the  Word  of  God,  can 
be  wholly  wrong.  Its  difference 
from  others  must  lie  in  its  partial 


3o^  in  Service,         15 

appreciation  of  the  truth,  in  its  in- 
ability to  take  in  all  truths  in  their 
relative  proportion.  And  so  in 
literature  and  science  and  philoso- 
phy some  men  are  impressed  with 
material  evidences,  others  with 
moral.  Some  men  are  poets, 
others  are  logicians  ;  some  criti- 
cal, others  dogmatic.  The  hope 
of  the  future  for  the  Church  and 
for  humanity  is  in  the  slow  ap- 
proximation and  combination  of 
these  partial  views,  until  at  last, 
"  in  the  unity  of  the  faith  and  of 
the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God, 
we  shall  come  unto  a  perfect  man, 
unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of 
the  fullness  of  Christ."  Mean- 
while, at  thebeginning  of  our  Chris- 
tian history,  Christ  stands  perfect. 
To  see  this  is  to  appreciate  his 
authority.     As    Paul  said,    He    is 


i6        3o5  in  Service. 


the  corner  stone  of  the  spiritual 
temple  which  the  Divine  Spirit  is 
building. 

I  do  not  mean  that  he  taught 
explicitly  all  the  truth  which  later 
times  have  discovered,  or  which 
after  him  apostles  taught.  But 
he  laid  the  living  germs  of  all 
later  religious  truth,  and  he  held 
them  in  such  perfect  proportion 
that  when  the  long  course  of  his- 
tory shall  be  finished,  when  that 
which  is  in  part  shall  have  been 
done  away,  and  that  which  is  per- 
fect shall  have  come,  the  result  will 
be  but  the  reproduction  on  a  large 
scale  of  the  already  perfect  stature 
of  Christ. 

And  this  is  particularly  mani- 
fested in  Christ's  views  of  life. 
His  peerless  spirituality  did  not 
make  him  an    ascetic.      His  clear 


Jos  in  Service.         17 

vision  of  the  future  did  not  lead 
him  to  despise  the  present.  His 
love  of  God  did  not  destroy  his 
love  of  nature  or  of  man.  His 
hatred  of  sin  did  not  cause  him  to 
shun  the  sinner.  Hence,  though 
our  Lord  was  the  model  of  a  reli- 
gious man,  he  was  no  enthusiast, 
still  less  a  fanatic.  The  enthu- 
siast is  a  man  who  sees  but  part  of  ' 
truth  and  magnifies  it  out  of  its 
proportion  ;  and  the  fanatic  is  one  , 
who,  in  addition  to  this,  hates  what 
he  cannot  understand.  According 
to  Isaac  Taylor,  "  Fanaticism  is 
enthusiasm  inflamed  by  hatred." 
But  Christ  exaggerated  nothing 
and  hated  no  man.  He  hated  sin, 
but  no  sinner.  His  boundless, 
tender  love  itself  prevented  such 
moral  distortion.  And,  therefore, 
he  is  the  ideal  or  model  of  human 


3o\?  in  Service. 


life.  We  do  not  feel  that  in  striv- 
ing to  imitate  even  his  most  spir- 
itual qualities  we  shall  become 
impractical  or  unnatural.  We  do 
not  feel  this  in  the  case  of  most 
other  holy  men.  They  become 
examples  of  one  virtue  by  exag- 
gerating it.  But  Christ  never  did 
this.  Lofty  as  the  view  of  life  was 
which  he  discloses  in  our  text,  sub- 
lime as  was  its  spiritual  consecra- 
tion, it  existed  in  him  in  harmony 
with  the  life  which  by  its  thor- 
oughly human  and  practical  fea- 
tures proves  that  we  too,  in  at 
least  some  measure,  can  make 
even  his  highest  traits  our  ex- 
emplars. Look,  therefore,  at  this 
text  which  discloses  his  mind,  and 
mark  its  principal  elements. 

I.  There    is   first  disclosed   the 
stronof  and  constant  consciousness 


30^  in  Service.         19 

that  he  had  a  distinct  errand  in 
the  world.  He  knew  that  he  had 
been  born  for  a  purpose,  that  a 
divine  aim  was  in  his  coming,  and 
that  a  positive  result  would  follow 
his  life.  This  sense  of  a  definite 
errand  was  expressed  by  him  on 
numerous  occasions ;  in  some  of 
them  quite  incidentally,  and  in 
others  more  directly.  You  re- 
member how,  as  a  boy  in  the  tem- 
ple, he  said  to  his  mother,  "  Wist 
ye  not  that  I  must  be  about  my 
Father's  business  ?  "  You  remem- 
ber how,  at  the  marriage  in  Cana, 
he  said  to  her  again,  "  My  hour  is 
not  yet  come."  So  with  that  pre- 
cious phrase  which  on  several  occa- 
sions fell  from  his  lips,  "  The  Son 
of  Man  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save 
that  which  is  lost."  He  regarded 
himself  as    one    sent   from    God  ; 


20        5og  in  Service* 

and  when  his  life  was  about  over 
he  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  heaven  and 
said,  "  Father,  the  hour  is  come  ;  I 
have  glorified  thee  on  the  earth  ; 
I  have  finished  the  work  which 
thou  gavest  me  to  do." 

So  in  our  text,  "  My  meat  is  to 
do  the  will  of  him  that  sent  me, 
and  to  finish  his  work."  He  was 
here  on  a  special  errand,  and  that 
errand  was  always  before  his  mind. 
Earth  was  but  a  place  of  appointed 
work.  Life  was  to  him  an  office, 
a  stewardship.  He  had  this  con- 
sciousness, even  when  he  seemed 
to  be  accomplishing  nothing.  It 
gave  unity  to  all  his  acts  and 
words.  To  Galilean  peasants 
and  to  Jewish  scribes  he  could 
speak  with  equal  assurance,  be- 
cause his  errand  was  to  both.  Yet 
he  knew  its  limitations.     He  said 


501?  in  Service,         21 

to  the  Syro-Phoenician  woman,  "  I 
am  not  sent  save  to  the  lost  sheep 
of  the  house  of  Israel."  He  had 
comedo  a  special  work  among  the 
Jews,  and  in  that  a  work  for  all 
mankind.  He  had  not  come  to  be 
glorified.  He  had  not  come  to  be 
ministered  unto,  but  to  minister. 
But  he  had  come  on  a  distinct 
errand ;  and  whatever  be  your 
doctrine  of  Christ's  person,  you 
must  confess  that  he  considered 
himself  no  accident  of  history; 
that  he  did  not  regard  his  life 
work  as  originating  in  his  own 
choice  ;  that  his  sense  of  a  mission 
did  not  come  as  an  afterthought 
to  him,  or  grow  clear  as  he  ad- 
vanced in  life.  He  felt  his  special 
errand  from  the  start.  It  was 
always  before  his  mind,  so  that 
life  was  to  him  the   performance 


22         3os  in  Service. 

of  a  given  task  and  the  fulfillment 
of  an  assigned  duty. 

2.  But  furthermore,  our  text  dis- 
closes that,  to  Christ's  mind,  this 
errand  of  his  in  the  world  derived 
its  sanctity  from  the  fact  that  it 
was  the  will  or  wish  of  his  Father. 
Every  man  is  governed  by  some 
controlling  motive  or  class  of  mo- 
tives. The  lowest  of  all  is  the 
motive  of  personal  gain  and  pleas- 
ure, and  the  sorrows  and  sins  of 
men  chiefly  spring  from  the  tyr- 
anny of  this  degraded  passion. 
Hiorher  than  it  is  the  motive  of 
pity  and  compassion,  which  may 
lead  us  to  do  good  for  the  sake 
of  benefitinor  others.  This  is  the 
spring  of  much  charity  and  philan- 
thropy, and,  so  far  as  it  goes,  it  is 
of  course  to  be  commended.  But 
there  is  a  higher  motive  than  even 


^08  In  Service.         23 

it,  and  Christ  reveals  it  to  us  here. 
It  is  the  wish  to  do  God's  will. 
Such  was  his  motive.  To  him  the 
will  of  the  Father  was  the  perfect 
good.  He  knew  of  nothing  nobler 
than  it,  so  that  the  whole  energy 
of  his  character  consisted  in  the 
force  of  obedience. 

This  phrase  may  carry  us  back 
to  that  time  in  the  counsels  of  the 
Godhead  when,  as  we  conceive 
such  matters,  the  Father  deter- 
mined to  save  the  world  that  had 
rebelled  against  him.  The  ques- 
tion was,  where  to  find  a  Saviour  ; 
and  the  spirit  of  the  Divine  Son 
was  manifested  in  his  self-dedica- 
tion to  the  work.  He,  too,  loved 
man,  but  that  was  not  his  main  mo- 
tive. He  loved  the  Father.  He  ap- 
preciated the  Father's  wish  to  save. 
He  gave  himself  to  carry  out  that 


24        301?  in  Service. 

wish.  "  Lo,  I  come,"  said  he, 
"  to  do  thy  will,  O  God."  Thus 
we  may  perceive,  I  think,  the  deep 
reality  in  the  Divine  Sonship  of 
Christ ;  and  certainly  on  earth  this 
was  his  controlling  motive.  He 
was  obedient  even  unto  death. 
To  obey  to  the  very  least  partic- 
ular the  Father's  will  was  the 
principle  of  his  being.  To  him 
the  Father's  will  was  not  hard, 
stern  law,  as  we  with  our  rebel- 
lious instincts  so  often  regard  it ; 
it  was  the  Father's  wish.  When 
love  exists  between  two  persons, 
the  will  of  one  it  is  the  other's  joy 
to  do,  if  possible.  Love  impels  to 
its  accomplishment.  Love  rejoices 
in  being  of  service,  in  giving  the 
loved  one  pleasure,  in  carrying 
out  the  other's  desire.  So  the  will 
of  God  was,  to  Christ,  his  Father's 


3o^  in  Service.         25 

wish.  Obedience  was  the  main- 
spring of  his  soul's  life,  and  his 
errand  in  the  world  derived  its 
sanctity  and  its  glory — in  spite  of 
man's  antagonism  and  in  spite  of 
apparent  fruitlessness — from  the 
fact  that  it  was  the  will  of  God. 
In  this  Christ  discloses  the  very 
highest  spiritual  life  which  it  is 
possible  to  conceive.  How  mar- 
velous was  this  !  He  who  has  won 
the  greatest  influence  over  the 
race,  he  before  whom  the  head 
bows  in  adoration,  he  who  has 
changed  already  the  course  of  his- 
tory, and  will  change  it  until  every 
knee  has  bowed  to  him,  was  one 
whose  supreme  wish  was  to  be  an 
obedient  Son.  Instead  of  con- 
quering by  selfishness  he  con-  - 
quered  by  self-abnegation.  In- 
stead of  doing  his  own    work,  he 


26         3os  in  Service. 


gave  himself  up  to  doing  his 
Father's.  Here  is  at  once  a  mira- 
cle of  history  and  a  model  of  life 
of  which  man  would  never  have 
dreamed. 

3.  As  a  consequence  of  all  this 
we  can  perceive  in  the  language 
of  the  text  Christ's  joy  in  the  dis- 

'  covery  of  a  special  opportunity  of 
carrying  out  the  highest  purpose 
of  the  Father's  will.  It  would 
seem    that    his    meeting  with  the 

.  Samaritan  woman  awakened  al- 
most a  state  of  excitement  in  his 
mind.  It  lifted  him  above  the 
reach  of  physical  desires.  This  I 
suppose  was  because  he  recognized 
in  that  meeting  an  opportunity  of 
doing  what  he  knew  was  dearest 
to  his  Father's  heart.  His  errand 
was  to  ultimately  save  the  world, 
and  now  he  was  engaged  in  saving 


Jog  in  Service,         27 


at  least  one  soul.  No  doubt  his 
devotion  to  the  Father's  will  sus- 
tained him,  even  in  the  darkest 
hour.  When  the  will  of  God  con- 
signed him  to  the  hatred  of  men, 
to  the  rejection  of  the  people, 
to  the  bitter  sorrow  of  the  cross, 
he  could  bow  his  head  in  humble 
compliance  and  say,  "  Thy  will, 
not  mine,  be  done."  But  he  knew 
well  that  the  Father  willed  his 
sorrows  in  order  to  the  world's 
salvation,  and  that  the  object 
dearest  to  the  Father's  heart  was 
the  recovery  of  lost  souls.  He 
himself  has  told  us  of  the  ang-els' 
joy  over  such.  And  he  has  de- 
scribed the  whole  object  of  his  ap- 
pearing to  man  by  these  matchless 
words  :  "  God  so  loved  the  world 
that  he  gave  his  only  begotten 
Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in 


28         3op  in  Service. 

him  might  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting  life."  And  therefore 
his  love  of  God  the  Father,  no 
less  than  his  love  of  man,  made 
him  hail  with  especial  joy  such  an 
opportunity  as  this.  We  may 
fairly  say  that  Christ  followed  the 
lead  of  providence.  He  did  him- 
self what  he  requires  of  us  ;  he 
was  quick  to  recognize  opportuni- 
ties. He  heard  in  them  a  divine 
call  ;  and  by  all  his  sense  of  his 
mission  among  men,  by  all  his  de- 
sire to  please  the  Father,  did  he 
hail  the  rising  faith  of  that  Sa- 
maritan and  rejoice  in  bringing 
to  her  the  message  of  salvation. 
Hence  I  say  his  evident  excite- 
ment, if  we  may  use  the  phrase. 
Hence  his  obliviousness  to  hun- 
ger. Hence  his  forgetfulness  of 
his    former     fatigue.      "  Lift     up 


5oB  in  Ser\>ic€.         29 

your  eyes,"  he  cried  to  his  disci- 
ples, "and  look  on  the  fields, 
for  they  are  white  already  unto 
harvest."  The  Father's  will  would 
be  accomplished,  and  in  the  joy  of 
service  his  soul  found  its  food. 
He  wanted  nothing  else.  Such 
fruitful  obedience  was  to  him  its 
own  reward. 

I  say  again.,  therefore,  what  a 
spiritual  life  was  this !  Praise  it- 
self seems  almost  to  defile  it.  It 
was  perfect.  It  was  sublime. 
Thus  can  we  understand  his  sin- 
lessness.  We  can  imaoine  no 
higher  ideal ;  and  marvelous  to 
say,  here  was  the  ideal  realized. 
We  cannot  wonder  any  longer 
that  over  this  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
God  should  say,  "  This  is  my  be- 
loved Son,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased." 


30         501?  in  Service. 

II.  And  now,  while  admiring, 
,  we  are  to  ask  if  it  is  possible  for  us 
to  imitate  in  principle  this  spirit- 
ual life,  of  which  the  Master  gave 
so  fine  an  example.  Possibly,  you 
may  say,  we  may  imitate  some  of 
the  least  remarkable  traits,  but 
scarcely  this.  And  yet  this  lies 
at  the  root  and  soul  of  the  rest : 
imitation  of  them  is  but  external 
and  spurious  if  it  does  not  reach 
this.  Only  by  this  can  we  have 
real  fellowship  with  him. 

We  are  met  at  the  outset  by 
man's  natural  reluctance  to  even 
think  of  regarding  the  will  of 
God  as  aught  but  repulsive.  Very 
often  objection  is  openly  made  to 
the  spiritual  view  expressed  by 
Christ.  God,  it  is  said,  must  surely 
want  to  educate  us  into  the  love 
of  virtue  and  truth   for  their  own 


501?  in  Service*         31 

sakes.  He  does  not  want  merely 
to  conquer  us,  to  break  our  wills 
by  superior  power.  He  wants  to 
lead  us  to  share  his  own  spirit  and 
life;  and,  therefore,  would  not  ask 
us  to  submit  merely  to  his  will. 
To  train  men,  therefore,  to  merely 
obey  is  not  so  noble  as  to  train 
men  to  reason,  or  to  love  truth  and 
riehteousness  for  their  own  sakes. 
But  we  reply  that  we  should  attain 
to  the  most  exalted  love  of  truth 
and  righteousness  and  every  other 
noble  thing  in  no  way  so  well  as 
through  loyalty  to  God.  Cer- 
tainly God  does  not  want  to  merely 
conquer  us  by  force,  but  of  all 
things  in  the  world  that  is  the  one 
not  exhibited  in  Jesus  Christ. 
His  was  the  obedience  of  love.  It 
sprang  from  his  admiration  of  the 
Father's    nature.       And    so    must 


32         3os  in  Service* 

ours.  God  has  laid  us  under  im- 
measurable obliorations  of  erati- 
tude.  He  has  condescended  to  re- 
veal himself  to  us.  He  has  given 
proof  of  his  wisdom,  his  love,  his 
holiness,  his  righteousness.  And, 
therefore,  the  will  of  God  is  no 
arbitrary  commandment.  It  is  the 
wish  of  our  dearest  Friend.  It 
is  the  direction  given  from  the 
world's  Pilot.  It  is  the  direction 
of  infinite  wisdom  and  righteous- 
ness and  love  ;  and  to  be  devoted 
to  his  will  is  but  to  be  confident 
that  all  his  frlorious  attributes  are 
being  expressed  for  our  guidance. 
And  then,  what  should  we  say 
of  one  who  seeks  after  truth 
and  righteousness,  and  yet  does 
not  yield  obedience  to  him  who  is 
the  source  of  all  things — the  truth, 

o 

the    righteousness  ?      We    should 


5os  in  Service,         33 

probably  conclude  that  his  search 
was  a  fancy,  his  aspiration  an  illu- 
sion. No  !  What  we  need  is  to 
love  the  Lord  our  God  with  all 
our  heart,  to  feel  that  he  is  the 
wisest,  the  most  lovely — the  em- 
bodiment and  the  source  of  all 
other  wisdom  and  goodness ;  the 
Sun  by  which  the  other  planets 
shine,  by  whose  rays  the  world  of 
nature  receives  its  life  and  beauty. 
We  need  to  love  God  supremely  ; 
and  if  we  do,  then  the  will  of  God 
will  seem  to  us  always  good,  even 
as  it  did  to  Christ. 

*'  Man's  weakness,  waiting  upon  God, 
Its  end  can  never  miss; 
For  men  on  earth  no  work  can  do 
More  angel-like  than  this. 

**  He  always  wins  who  sides  with  God. 
To  him  no  chance  is  lost; 


34         3o\>  in  Service. 

God's  will  is  sweetest  to  him  when 
It  triumphs  at  his  cost. 

"  111  that  he  blesses  is  our  good, 
And  unblessed  good  our  ill; 
And  all  is  right  that  seems  most  wrong, 
If  it  be  his  sweet  will." 

Let  man  behold,  through  Christ, 
the  infinite  Father,  the  source  of 
all  life  and  blessedness  and  good, 
and  man  will  put  God  first,  and 
find  his  highest  glory  in  acting 
out  the  prayer,  "  Thy  will  be  done 
on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven." 

But  even  so,  we  are  met  by 
the  further  difficulty  that,  unlike 
Christ,  we  are  not  always  sensi- 
ble of  being  sent  on  any  special 
errand  into  the  world.  We  lose 
what  aim  we  have,  amid  the  diver- 
sities of  toil  to  which  we  are  com- 
pelled.     We  lose  what  breadth  of 


30^  in  Service.         35 

view  we  have,  amid  the  multitude 
of  trifles  of  which  our  lives  are 
composed.  We  can  imagine 
Christ's  sense  of  his  mission,  and 
how  it  could  absorb  him  ;  l)ut 
what  in  our  lots  can  correspond? 
It  may  indeed  be  true  that,  un- 
like Christ,  you  have  no  clear 
idea  of  why  God  sent  you  into 
the  world.  Few  have,  but  it 
would  seem  to  quite  remove  God 
from  actual  government  of  the 
world  to  say  that,  therefore,  he 
had  no  purpose.  That  glowing 
picture  which  the  apostle  paints 
of  the  rising  temple  should  for- 
bid the  doubt.  Every  stone  has 
its  place  and  is  needed.  It  may 
need  to  be  broken  and  hewn,  to 
be  polished  ;  it  may  be  hid  in  an 
unseen  place  within  the  wall ;  no 
man    may    notice    it.       But    the 


3<>         3o^  in  Service. 

Builder  meant  it  to  be  there,  and 
it  contributes  its  share  to  the 
work  before  which  the  ages  of 
eternity  shall  fall  in  wonder  ;  that 
work  which  is  to  manifest  to  the 
principalities  and  powers  in  the 
heavenly  places  the  manifold  wis- 
dom of  God.  We  may  dismiss 
the  doubt  therefore,  since  God  is 
God.  We  have  been  made  and 
sent  here  for  a  purpose.  God's 
will  is  meaning  to  use  us,  and  it 
is  our  duty  and  privilege  now  to 
carry  out,  as  far  as  possible,  that 
will  of  him  that  sent  us,  so  far  as 
he  has  made  it  known.  And  cer- 
tainly, brother  man,  enough  of 
the  Father's  will  is  made  known 
to  teach  us  our  work. 

We  may  rejoice  to  do  his  will 
as  revealed  m  co7iscience.  He  has 
placed  within   the   soul  of  man  a 


So^  in  Service.         37 


guide  which,  within  certain  limits, 
and  as  applied  to  special  acts  and 
circumstances,  infallibly  indicates 
his  will.  So  far  as  it  acts,  no  man 
can  say  he  is  ignorant ;  and  the 
true  child  of  God  will  give  heed 
and  say,  "  This  is  the  will  of  God." 
Conscience'  will  itself  be  re-en- 
forced by  being  so  regarded;  and 
it  is  practically  impossible  to 
question  conscience,  as  to  most 
of  the  practical  duties  of  life, 
without  plainly  hearing,  "  This 
is  the  way." 

But  we  may  further  rejoice  to 
do  his  will  as  revealed  m  Scrip- 
ture. Here  he  has  gone  beyond 
the  starlight  of  conscience  and 
flooded  the  world  with  the  sun- 
liorht  of  his  revelation.  The 
Scriptures  contain  the  will  of 
God    for    our    salvation.       They 


l» 


5o^  in  Service. 


speak  in  no  doubtful  tone.  We 
may  be  as  certain  as  Jesus  was 
what  the  \vill  of  the  Father  is. 
Paul  called  himself  an  apostle 
"  by  the  will  of  God"  ;  so  may  we. 
"  This  is  the  work  of  God,  that 
ye  believe  on  him  whom  he  hath 
sent."  It  is  the  will  of  God  that 
we  trust  him,  that  we  serve  him, 
that  we  be  holy  as  he  is  holy,  that 
we  extend  his  knowledge.  These 
are  as  absolute  commands  as  are 
those  of  the  Decalogue  ;  and  the 
true  child  will  take  this  revela- 
tion for  his  guidance,  and  by  its 
light  will  try  to  carry  out  his 
F'ather's  will. 

But  you  may  say,  "  Much  of 
this  direction  is  general,  it  is  not 
specific.  What  is  the  specific 
will  of  God  for  me?"  I  answer 
therefore,  finally,  that  we  may,  like 


5os  In  Service.         39 


Christ,  rejoice  to  do  his  will  as 
revealed  in  providence.  I  have 
tried  to  show  that  even  Christ 
followed  where  the  Father  led, 
embraced  opportunities,  met  new 
circumstances,  prepared  for  "the 
hour."  And  certainly  we  are  to 
do  so.  The  will  of  God  for  each 
one  of  us  is  unfolded  by  the 
events  of  life.  These  are  not 
causeless.  They  are  not  a  chance 
medley  of  good  and  bad.  God 
rules  :  not  a  sparrow  falls  with- 
out him.  And  therefore,  as  provi- 
dence unrolls  the  will  of  God  for 
us,  the  true  child  is  to  accept  and 
obey.  Now  he  brings  an  oppor- 
tunity;  now  he  lays  a  burden/ 
Now  he  tries  us  with  prosperity ; 
now  with  sorrow.  Now  he  sends 
us  into  battle  and  temptation  ;  now 
he  lays    us  on  beds  of   pain    and 


40         5oi?  in  Service. 

idleness.  Now  he  wounds,  and 
now  he  heals ;  the  way  opens 
under  his  Divine  guidance.  It 
may  lift  us  up,  it  may  cast  us 
down.  As  with  Christ,  I  say,  so 
with  us.  It  may  give  us  a  soul 
to  save,  it  may  cause  our  plans  to 
be  rejected,  it  may  lead  to  Geth- 
semane,  it  may  translate  us  to 
glory  ;  but  in  all  it  is  the  will  of 
him  that  sent  us,  the  work  he  has 
for  us  to  do.  In  all,  infinite  wis- 
dom, the  Father's  goodness,  and 
eternal  righteousness  move.  He 
shows  the  way,  and  man's  highest 
privilege — yea,  man's  strength  and 
food — is  to  do  his  will,  because  we 
love  and  trust  and  adore  him  so 
entirely  that  what  he  wishes,  that 
we  are  glad  to  do. 

I    hold,     therefore,    before    us 
Christ's  joy  in  service   as  not  be- 


3o\?  in  5erv>icc.         41 

yond  our  power  to  imitate  ;  and  I 
ask  if  conapience  and  reason  do 
not  testify  that  this  is  the  loftiest 
ideal  in  life  which  we  can  have. 
When  we -reach  heaven,  this  will 
be  realized.  But  here,  in  the 
desert,  now,  in  this  world  of  sin, 
is  the  time  to  begin.  I  do  not 
show  you  so  exalted  a  Jesus  as  to 
put  him  beyond  the  reach  of  imi- 
tation. ^^He  came  to  make  us  like 
himself.  And  I  ask  if  any  other 
ideals  of  life  can  compare  with  this 
— if  they  are  not  poor  and  mean 
— if  this  does  not  soar  above 
them.  You  claim  to  seek  nobility 
and  greatness  and  victory.  Here 
they  are.  Come,  learn  from 
Jesus  the  love  of  God.  Let  it 
win  your  heart ;  and  as  at  his 
feet  you  look  in  that  infinite,  eter- 
nal sea  of  love,  whose  depths  are 


42 


3o5  in  Service. 


fathomless  and  whose  billows 
break  on  the  shores  of  time — that 
love  of  God  to  man  out  of  which 
Christ  came  to  save  our  souls  by 
death — as  you  gaze  on  it,  rise 
with  this  resolve  :  "  By  thy  grace, 
O  Christ,  I  too  will  joy  to  do  the 
will  of  him  that  sent  me,  and  to 
finish  his  work." 


FORGETTING,   AND 

PRESSING  FORWARD. 


"  Forgetting  those  things  which  are  behind, 
and  reaching  forth  unto  those  things  which 
are  before,  I  press  toward  the  mark  for  the 
prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ 
fesus." — PhiLIPPIANS  3:13,  I4. 


FORGETTING, 

AND 

PRESSING    ONWARD. 


We  are  not  to  take  the  first 
part  of  this  text  too  literally,  nor 
press  the  apostle's  words  too 
closely.  He  certainly  did  not 
mean  to  say  that  he  had  forgotten 
all  his  past  life  and  blotted  out 
the  memory  of  all  that  lay  behind 
him.  The  Bible  must  be  inter- 
preted naturally,  as  you  would 
interpret  the  language  of  ordinary 
writers.     If  we  were  to  take  texts 


^6 


foraettina,  and 


out  of  their  connections  and  press 
the  literal  meaning  of  every  clause 
and  word,  we  would  soon  make 
the  book  a  bundle  of  contradic- 
tions and  reduce  it  to  an  actual 
absurdity.  Unfortunately  this  has 
sometimes  been  done,  and  not 
a  few  of  the  differences  of  opinion 
which  believers  of  the  Bible  have 
among  themselves  arise  from 
such  false  and  unreasonable 
methods  of  interpretation.  So, 
as  I  have  said,  Paul  did  not  mean 
that  he  had  really  forgotten  the 
things  that  lay  behind  him.  In 
fact,  he  refers  again  and  again  to 
his  past  life  and  experience.  In 
this  very  chapter  he  relates  his 
pedigree.  Often  he  refers  to  his 
state  of  mind  before  he  became 
a  Christian — to  his  spiritual  unrest 
and  vain  efforts  after  peace.      Still 


ressina  ©nwar&.      47 


oftener  does  he  recount  the  story 
of  his  conversion,  and  hold  him- 
self up  to  all  ages  as  a  miracle  of 
grace  and  a  monument  of  Divine 
mercy.  He  was  very  far,  there- 
fore, from  having  forgotten  the 
way  along  which  he  had  been  led. 
It  had  been  too  momentous  both 
for  himself  and  others.  It  had 
been  too  full  of  both  storm  and 
sunshine  not  to  be  worth  remem- 
berine.  It  had  written,  as  with  a 
pen  of  steel,  lessons  of  law  and 
love  upon  the  soul  of  the  apostle, 
and  in  characters  too  deep  ever  to 
be  obliterated. 

What,  then,  did  Paul  mean 
when  he  here  describes  himself 
as  "  forgetting  those  things  which 
are  behind  and  reaching  forth 
unto  those  things  which  are  be- 
fore"?    He   meant   his   language 


48 


fozQcttirxQ,  anD 


to  be  understood  comparatively 
and  relatively.  He  was  thinking 
chiefly  of  the  new  life  which  had 
been  opened  before  him  by  Jesus 
Christ,  and  of  the  enthusiasm  and 
devotion  with  which  he  pursued 
it.  He  likens  himself  to  a  contest- 
ant in  a  foot-race,  whose  eye  is 
bent  on  the  track  before  him,  not 
on  that  behind  his  back — who  is 
ever  measuring  in  thought  the 
distance  yet  to  be  traveled  until 
the  prize  is  won.  He  meant, 
therefore,  that  he  was  so  absorbed 
in  the  new  pursuits  and  duties 
given  him  by  Jesus  Christ  that 
his  past  life  was  comparatively 
fororotten.  He  did  not  mourn 
the  honors  in  the  Jewisli  Church 
which  he  had  lost  by  becoming  a 
Christian.  He  did  not  dwell  upon 
the  anger  of  his  Hebrew  friends, 


jpresstng  ©uwarD.      49 

now  that  he  had  the  friendship 
of  Christ  himself.  He  did  not 
regret  the  sacrifice  he  had  made, 
since  a  better  reward  had  been 
bestowed  upon  him.  He  did  not 
let  past  troubles  hamper  present 
actions,  nor  past  successes  cause 
him  to  rest  upon  his  laurels,  nor 
past  services  satisfy  him,  nor  past 
losses  embitter  him.  He  turned 
resolutely  to  the  future.  He 
pushed  ahead  in  his  divinely 
appointed  way.  He  let  the  dead 
past  bury  its  dead,  while  he  was 
absorbed  in  the  living  present  and 
the  coming  future.  Speaking  rel- 
atively, in  comparison  with  the 
absorbing  business  of  his  life, 
he  could  say,  "  Forgetting  those 
things  which  are  behind  and 
reaching  forth  unto  those  things 
that  are  before,  I  press  toward  the 


so         ^forgetting,   an& 

mark  for    the    prize    of   the   high 
calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus." 

Thus  understood,  St.  Paul's 
language  becomes  exceedingly 
suggestive  of  things  that  it  is 
worth  our  while  to  forget,  and 
the  way  in  which  we  should  for- 
get them.  Like  him,  we  are  not 
required  to  blot  out  the  remem- 
brance of  the  past.  There  could 
be  no  improvement  if  we  did  not 
remember  past  mistakes  and 
profit  by  them.  It  is  often  our 
sweetest  joy  and  highest  pride 
to  think  of  the  days  that  are  no 
more,  of  the  wondrous  history  of 
mankind,  of  our  own  journey  as 
Providence  has  led  us  on,  and 
above  all  things,  of  him  whom 
we  are  to  hold  in  everlasting 
remembrance.  But  we  must  keep 
life's  balance  true.     Some  people 


ressing  ©uwarD,      51 


are     always    living     among     the 
gravestones,    regretting    what    is  , 
now    inevitable,    mourning    over 
losses    that    cannot    be    repaired, 
thinking   the   days  of  old  better 
than  those  which  are  to  be — and 
wasting  their  energies  in  sorrow- 
ful     reminiscences      and     wistful 
longings     for    a    perished     past, 
instead    of    using    their    energies 
in    the    accomplishment    of    what 
may  be  done  for  the  winning  of 
better  crowns.     It  is  against  this 
practice  that  the  apostle's  experi- 
ence warns.     This  practice  makes 
progress     impossible.       It     is     a 
source  of  misery.     It  fetters    the 
Christian  mind.      It  does  not  know 
that   the    resurrection    has    taken 
place.     It  makes  life    a  threnody 
instead  of  a  hosanna.     We  are  to 
turn  from  the  past   that  we  may 


52 


^forgetting,  anb 


obtain  the  better  future.  Let  me 
give  you  an  example  of  the  way 
in  which  we  are  to  forget  the 
things  which  are  behind,  and 
reach  forth  unto  those  things  that 
are  before. 

I.  It  is  worth  our  while  to  for- 
get old  doubts  and  questionings, 
through  absorption  in  the  prac- 
tical application  of  the  truth 
brought  us  by  Jesus  Christ. 
Most  of  the  doubts  and  question- 
ings which  men  have  on  the  sub- 
ject of  religion  are  very  old. 
Their  hair  is  gray  with  the  anx- 
ious thought  of  many  centuries. 
They  may  be  represented  by  old 
men,  with  wrinkled  foreheads  and 
feeble  knees,  pretending  by  dress 
and  manner  to  be  young.  But 
you  would  be  surprised  to  find 
how  old  they  are,  these  questions 


pressing  ®nwar&.      53 


that  disturb  your  religious  faith 
and  hinder  you  from  the  per- 
formance of  your  whole  duty. 

There,  for  instance,  is  that  weary 
question    about    the    reason    why 
God    allowed    sin    and    misery  to 
enter  into  his  world — a  question 
which    men    are    still    pondering, 
under  which  they  are  still  restless 
and  sometimes  unhappy.     But  lo  1 
it    is    as    old   as    human    history. 
The    ancient    brahmins    wrestled 
with  it.     We  find  it  echoed  in  the 
hymns  of  Chaldea  that  date  from 
the  days  of  Abraham,  in  the  songs 
of  Greece,  and  in  the  literature  of 
the  age  of  Solomon  ;  and  neither 
philosophy     nor    science,    neither 
discovery  nor  accident,  has  to  this 
day  been  able  to  frame  a  satisfac- 
tory answer. 

In    like    manner    the    question 


54        jforgctting,  an& 

how  to  harmonize  in  thought  the 
absolute  sovereignty  of  God,  who 
ruleth  over  all  and  designed  the 
end  from  the  beginning,  with  the 
freedom  and  responsibility  of 
man,  is  an  ancient  problem  which 
no  answer  has  been  found  able  to 
finally  solve.  Hindoo  philosophy 
settled  it  by  fatalism,  making  man 
nothing  and  deities  all.  Greek 
thought  vibrated  between  the  two 
extremes  ;  and  from  the  beginning 
of  Christian  history  the  problem 
has  vexed  the  ingenuit}'  and 
taxed  the  patience  of  the  Church. 
It  is  not  peculiar  to  Calvinism. 
It  is  a  problem  which  has  ever 
risen  up  before  inquiring  minds 
and  bafifled  the  wisdom  of  the 
greatest  who  have  grappled  with 
it. 

And  so.  too,  most  of  the  specific 


pressina  ©nwart).      55 

doubts  about  and  objections  to 
Christian  doctrine  have  descended 
to  us  from  remote  generations. 
Modern  philosophy  turns  out  to 
be  only  a  careful "  repietition  of 
speculations  which  were  indulged 
in  by  the  earliest  thinkers.  Most 
of  the  really  important  objections 
to  the  Bible  were  raised  by  the 
shrewd  and.  cultured  antagonists 
whom  ancient  paganism  put  for- 
ward as  its  champions.  There 
can^  scarcely  be  a  new  theory  de- 
vised, for  th«  human  mind  has 
long  since  gone  over  the  whole 
ground  with  plowshare  and 
rake.  Nothing  is  more  instruct- 
ive and  entertaining  to  the  stu- 
dent of  Christianity  than  to  recog- 
nize in  ancient  times  the  faces 
with  which  he  is  familiar  in  our 
day,  although  they  may  be  dressed 


56 


foraettino,  anb 


in  different  clothes  and  speak 
another  tongue.  He  will  hail 
them  as  well-known  families,  and 
will  return  with  the  conviction 
that,  so  far  as  the  religious  doubts 
and  questionings  of  the  human 
mind  are  concerned,  there  was 
some  truth  in  the  declaration  of 
Solomon,  that  there  is  nothing 
new  under  the  sun. 

I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  prog- 
ress is  not  being  made  in  religious 
thought  as  well  as  elsewhere.  I 
think  there  is.  God's  truth  is 
being  better  understood.  God's 
Word  is  beine  read  more  intelli- 
gently.  Light  is  falling  from 
many  a  source  and  on  many  a 
fact.  Neither  do  I  mean  to  say 
that  these  old  problems  should 
not  be  considered,  if  for  no  other 
reason  than  that  men  may  be  re- 


pressing  ©nwart),      S7 

minded  that  some  of  them  are 
insoluble  by  us,  and  that  what  we 
do  know  concerning  them  may 
be  fairly  and  wisely  stated.  But 
I  think  it  clear  that  they  should 
not  be  allowed  to  burden  us  nor 
to  keep  us  back  from  the  perform- 
ance of  practical  duty.  For, 
mark  you  how  progress  has  been 
made  even  while  these  dark  ques- 
tionings remained  unsolved. 
Jesus  and  the  apostles  did  not 
attempt  to  answer  these  philo- 
sophical questionings  which  had 
been  and  would  be  raised  by  in- 
quiring minds.  They  gave  us 
certain  positive,  practical  truths, 
and  told  us  to  test  them  by  actual 
trial,  and  obtain  the  good  which 
they  would  be  sure  to  bring. 
Christianity  in  later  years  did  not 
triumph  by  confuting    the   objec- 


58 


fovQctting,  an& 


tions  raised  against  it  on  the  part 
of  culture.  It  answered  many  of 
them  indeed,  but  its  triumph 
came  from  the  practical  religion 
which  it  introduced,  and  from  the 
effects  of  faith  in  Jesus  which 
blessed  individuals  and  society. 
So,  while  the  human  intellect  has 
been  wrestling  with  the  giant 
problem  of  life,  the  being  of  God 
has  silently  been  established. 
Overhead  has  been  the  battle  of 
the  elements,  as  on  earth  the 
quiet  growth  of  the  seed  of  truth 
which  fell  from  the  Master's  hand. 
While  the  Titans  have  been  war- 
ring in  the  air,  the  power  of  God's 
love  and  the  offer  of  his  Gospel 
have  been  makinor  the  world 
better.  The  laws  of  Christ  have 
been  closely  applied  to  human 
conduct ;     the     beauty     and    the 


ressiug  ©nwarD.      59 


majesty  of  Jesus  have  won  their 
way  to  the  hearts  of  millions. 
Thus  progress  in  righteousness,  in 
the  love  of  God,  and  in  the  prac- 
tical application  of  the  Gospel, 
has  gone  forward,  while  these 
profound  problems  have  remained, 
and  hover  like  clouds  above  the 
fretful  world. 

I  judge,  therefore,  that  in  view 
of  these  facts  it  is  worth  our 
while  to  forget  these  doubts  and 
questionings.  History  has  proved 
that  many  of  them  are  both  hope- 
lessly dark  and  have  nothing  what- 
ever to  do  with  the  attainment  of 
happiness  and  peace  of  mind. 
That  they  will  ever  cease  to  en- 
gage the  attention  of  some  would 
be  too  much  to  believe.  Every 
new  generation  will  undertake  the 
task  of  settling  them.     But  it  will 


6o         forgetting,  an& 

soon  be  glad  to  leave  the  task  to 
generations  following.  It  is,  there- 
fore, not  material  for  a  man  to 
consider  them.  There  are  things 
before  him  which  can  be  done 
and  questionings  which  can  be 
probably  solved.  His  own  per- 
sonal Christian  duty  is  as  clear  as 
sunlight.  That  Christ  is  worthy 
of  his  following  is  manifest  to 
every  unperverted  mind.  That 
men  need  to  have  Christ's  teach- 
ings taken  home  to  them,  and 
that  man  himself  needs  to  prac- 
tically walk  with  Christ  and  do 
his  service,  the  clear  facts  demon- 
strate. It  is  worth  his  while  to 
forgfet  those  doubts  and  leave 
those  problems  unsolved.  It  is 
not  wise  to  let  them  burden  him 
or  keep  him  back  from  service. 
Let  him  leave  them  behind  him. 


pressing  ®nwar&,      6i 

and  bend  his  strength  to  the  race- 
track  of  acknowledged  duty,  and 
perhaps  when  he  has  reached  the 
goal  he  may  be  in  fitter  condition 
to  deal  with  them.  I  am  certain 
that  then  he  will  thank  God  that 
he  did  not  let  them  hold  him  back 
from  the  glorious  prize. 

II.  Again,  it  is  worth  our  while 
to  forget  our  trials  and  sorrows, 
through  absorption  in  the  pleas 
ure  and  gains  of  Christian  work. 
Not  everyone  by  any  means  can 
do  this.  Not  a  few  dwell  on  the 
trials  they  have  had,  until  they 
become  veritable  burdens,  invisi- 
bly borne  on  weary  shoulders. 
Under  the  palsy  of  regret,  energy 
for  new  duties  becomes  enfeebled. 
Some  are  embittered  by  regret, 
fretful  under  the  apparently  hard 
ordainments  of  Providence,  carry- 


62         forQettino,   ant) 

ing  within  their  mind  sour 
thoughts  of  God  and  of  those 
who  are  more  fortunate,  so  that 
the  world  grows  dark  to  them, 
loses  its  beauty  and  loveliness, 
and  life  ends  in  welcome  death. 
Others  simply  grieve,  striving  to 
be  patient  and  submissive,  but 
knowing  not  what  balm  to  apply 
to  their  wounds  or  where  to  find 
consolation.  Few  things  are 
sadder  than  the  spectacle  of  such 
cherishers  of  bitter  memories  ;  and 
yet  how  they  nurse  their  regret 
and  attach  an  almost  sacred  dig- 
nity to  their  sorrows,  and  refuse 
to  undertake  the  duties  and  privi- 
leges which  are  before  them,  as 
though  fettered  by  the  past. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  only 
fair  to  remark  that  human  nature 
shows    marvelous    elasticity    and 


ressing  ©nwarD.      63 


capacity  to  forget.  The  really 
wonderful  thing  is  that  men  and 
women  are  so  well  able  to  forget 
the  trials  and  sorrows  through 
which  they  pass.  When  we  think 
how  heavy  these  are  in  nearly 
every  life — how  bitter  the  part- 
ings are  as  we  journey  along  the 
pathway,  how  much  disappoint- 
ment and  loss  there  are  in  the  ex- 
perience of  even  the  more  fortu- 
nate— the  marvel  is  that  there  are 
so  many  happy  faces  and  that  the 
sorrows  of  humanity  are  so  soon 
forgotten  in  the  enjoyment  of 
other  things. 

As  the  vegetation  soon  springs 
up  on  the  battlefield,  as  ruined 
houses  are  transformed  into  fer- 
tile hillocks,  and  the  plain  where 
man  and  horse  rolled  in  awful 
carnage    becomes    ere    long     the 


64         forgetting,  anO 

harvest  field  of  the  farmer,  so  the 
pains  and  griefs  of  human  life  are 
buried  under  the  new  labors  and 
pleasures  which  beckon  to  them- 
selves the  human  mind.  Thank 
God  it  is  so.  He  has  made  us 
thus  elastic  and  self-governing 
that  we  may  not  be  cast  down. 
Otherwise  history  would  stop, 
and  earth  become  a  graveyard ; 
and  the  fact  that  this  is  part  of 
our  natural  constitution  indicates 
that  it  is  wise  and  right  to  turn 
from  even  the  keenest  trial  and 
the  most  sacred  grief  to  the  sum- 
mons which  the  Father  brings  to 
us  to  further  work.  For  it  is  im- 
possible to  suppose  that  these  evil 
events  are  sent  to  us  for  their  own 
sake.  That  would  be  an  out- 
rageous impugnment  of  the  good- 
ness and  mercy  of  God,  especially 


Ipressing  ©nwarO.      65 

when  he  has  distinctly  declared 
that  he  does  not  willingly  afflict 
or  grieve  the  child  of  man.  They 
are  meant  to  discipline  our  souls 
— -to  show  us  truth  more  clearly, 
to  open  to  our  minds  the  realities 
of  life,  and  to  guide  us  into  the 
ways  of  thinking  and  acting  which 
are  better  than  those  we  followed 
before.  And  if  so,  then  they  will 
do  their  work  only  when  they  are 
themselves  relatively  forgotten  in 
the  new  life  to  which  they  intro- 
duce us. 

The  gardener  prunes  the  vine 
that  it  may  bring  forth  more  fruit. 
He  cuts  off  useless  branches  that 
others  may  replace  them,  stronger 
and  fresher ;  and  the  pruning  is 
to  be  forgotten  in  the  ripening 
clusters  that  are  gathered  in  con- 
sequence of  it.     The  gold  is    re- 


66        jforoettina,  an& 

fined  that  the  alloy  may  be  dis- 
engaged from  union  with  the  pre- 
cious metal ;  and  when  the  latter 
is  purified,  its  worth  far  exceeds 
the  trial  through  which  it  had  to 
pass.  And  who  of  us  cannot 
glean  from  our  own  lives  illustra- 
tions of  a  like  character  ?  Look- 
ing back  through  the  mist  of  years, 
we  can  recall  the  failures  that  at 
the  time  nearly  broke  our  hearts  ; 
losses  that  nearly  crushed  us,  but 
which  it  now  requires  a  positive 
effort  to  remember,  so  completely 
have  they  merged  into  the  life  for 
which  Providence  meant  them  to 
qualify  us.  Those  gloomy  daj^s 
were  meant  to  be  forgotten. 
They  were  meant  to  merge  into 
a  nobler  life.  They  were  like  the 
sharp  pain  of  a  surgeon's  knife — 
the    pain    soon    passes    away,  but 


presstuQ  ©nwarD.      67 

the  benefit  of  it  remains.  God 
never  meant  them  to  linger  as 
phantoms  in  our  memories,  to 
absorb  our  thought  and  claim  our 
sole  attention.  He  meant  them 
to  make  us  patient,  and  stronger 
for  other  tasks,  for  the  doing  of 
which  this  discipline  was  re- 
quired. 

We  should  be  very  careful, 
however,  to  drown  our  pains  and 
sorrows  not  in  selfish  work  and  ^ 
pleasures,  but  in  Christian  work 
and  in  the  joys  of  Christian  serv- 
ice. Let  us  use  no  intoxicating 
cup  to  cover  with  oblivion  our 
troubles  and  cares.  Some  plunge 
even  into  actual  dissipation  that  , 
they  may  kill  the  sting  of  mem- 
ory. Others  resort  to  business 
and  social  pleasures.  But  then 
the  foreetfulness  is  short-lived  and 


68         iforgetting,  an& 

bitter,  and  you  truly  add  new- 
causes  for  further  regret  in  years 
to  come.  It  is  worth  our  while 
to  forget  our  trials  and  sorrows, 
if  we  do  so  by  becoming  absorbed 
in  better  living  and  in  Christian 
work.  Go  out  of  thyself  and 
serve  others.  Forget  thyself  in 
thinking  of  thy  fellow-men. 
Reach  forth  unto  the  things  that 
are  before  thee.  Help  the  unfor- 
tunate. Raise-  up;  the  fallen. 
Teach  the  ignorant.  Keep  thy 
mind  busy  with  useful  thoughts. 
Give  thy  brain  and  hand  to  use- 
ful toil.  Forget  thy  own  pains 
and  griefs  in  ministering  to  those 
which  others  have.  It  will  then 
indeed  be  worth  thy  while  to  dis- 
miss them  from  command  of  thee, 
for  they  will  never  be  of  so  much 
use  as  when  they  thus  stimulate 


kind  and  gentle  deeds.  It  is  thus 
that  thou  wilt  "  find  in  loss  a  gain 
to  match,"  and  rise  on  "  stepping 
stones  of  your  dead  self  to  higher 
things." 

III..  So,  too,  it  is  worth  our 
while  to  forget  our  so-called  suc- 
cesses and  our  earthly  reverses  by 
absorption  in  those  ends  of  living 
which  Christ  has  taught  us  to  be 
really  good  and  great.  It  was  in 
this  sense  particularly  that  St.  Paul 
used  our  text.  The  things  which 
he  forgot  were  his  noble  Jewish 
birth,  his  upright  training,  his  suc- 
cesses and  honors  in  the  eyes  of 
his  fellow-countrymen.  Not  even 
a  Roman  was  prouder  of  his  birth 
than  a  Jew  was  of  his.  Before 
that  young  Jew  of  Tarsus  high 
honors  rose,  ready  almost  to  lay 
themselves    at    his    feet.      He    at- 


70         fovQCttiwQ,  auD 

tained  the  highest  culture  which 
his  master  Gamaliel  could  give 
him.  The  way  was  open  for  him  to 
become  a  noted  man  in  his  nation, 
a  leader  in  Church  and  State. 
He  valued  these  things.  He  did 
not  tosfe  them  from  him  without 
an  effort,  but  he  did  toss  them 
from  him.  In  the  sense  in  which 
I  have  explained  it,  he  forgot 
them:  "What  things  were  gain 
to  me,  these  have  I  counted  loss 
for  Christ."  That  he  might  fol- 
low the  truth  and  serve  the  Lord, 
he  turned  his  mind  away  from  all 
the  honor  and  gain  which  the 
Jewish  world  could  offer  him. 
He  did  so  absolutely.  He  did 
not  let  his  mind  dwell  on  the 
sacrifice  which  he  had  made.  He 
did  not  repine  over  his  loss.  He 
cheerfully    and    joyfully    pursued 


pressing  ©nwarD*      71 


his  way  of  Christian  service,  and 
never  allowed  himself  to  be  de- 
terred in  it  for  a  moment  by  any 
thought  of  the  sacrifices  which  he 
had  made,  rightly  thinking  that 
nothing  that  the  whole  world  could 
give  him  was  worth  comparison 
with  the  prize  of  the  high  calling 
of  God  in  Christ  Jesus. 

Now,  certainly  it   is  harder  for 
us  to  forget  the  glittering  prizes 
which    the   world    offers    us    than 
anything  else.      It  is  hard  to  per- 
suade    ourselves    that     they    are 
really   behind    us;    that   we    have 
left  them  in  the  rear  and  gone  on 
by  them  to  something  greater  and 
better.     They  absorb  the    energy 
of   most    of   us,    these    imaginary 
piles  of  glittering  dollars  that  we 
think  we  see  one  day  ours,  these 
famous  honors  in  professional  or 


72         foxQCttirxQ,  an& 

public  life  that  we  hope  one 
day  to  have.  They  are  the  cor- 
ruptible crowns  for  which  the 
majority  of  men  are  striving,  and 
which  fill  the  souls  of  millions 
with  selfish  and  sordid  thoughts. 
But  let  the  light  in  on  these 
earthly  prizes,  and  how  apt  they 
are  to  turn  out  tinsel  and  brass  ! 
Finery  that  is  quite  resplendent 
by  gaslight  often  appears  tawdry 
and  poor  in  the  rays  of  the  morn- 
inor  sun.  So  when  the  realities  of 
life  are  felt  by  the  soul,  when  the 
mind's  supreme  need  of  truth  and 
of  the  fellowship  with  God  are 
realized,  then  do  the  dollars  and 
crowns  for  which  this  poor  world 
strusfSfles  seem  mean  enouoh  to 
awaken  the  contempt  and  even 
the  hatred  of  those  who  have 
been  deceived  by  them.     On  the 


J_ 

i5ressino  ©uwart).       73 

other  hand,  the  true  life  which 
lesus  has  revealed  will  stand  the 
test  of  the  most  searching  investi- 
gation :  when  the  blazing  light 
of  eternity,  falls  on  it,  ^it  is  still 
found .  to  be  real  gold.  The  life 
which  follows  Christ  in  doing 
good,  which  forsakes  its  own 
pleasure  at  the  call  of  those  in 
need,  which  loves  and  works  for 
God — the  life  which  is  at  harmony 
with  God  and  at  peace  with  its 
fellow-men — that  life  appears  more 
and  more  beautiful  as  we  try  it, 
and  its  reward  more  and  more 
worthy  of  our  toil. 

I  say,  therefore,  that  these  pal- 
try things  which  men  call  success 
and  honor  are  worth  forgetting,  if 
their  place  be  taken  by  those  ends 
of  living  which  Christ  has  taught 
us  to  be    really  great    and    good. 


74        iforaetting,  atiD 

We  need  not  fret  if  we  lose  them ; 
we  need  not  care  if  we  never  win 
them.  Seeking  greater  prizes,  why 
should  we  repine  if  the  baubles 
and  tinsel  are  not  had .?  I  say  to 
you,  forget  them.  Go  higher  up. 
Seek  wisdom  and  righteousness, 
truth  and  character.  Lay  up  treas- 
ures in  the  heart,  and  do  not  be 
bound  and  limited  by  fancied  good 
which,  at  the  longest,  will  soon 
fade  away. 

IV.  Once  more,  and  most 
earnestly  of  all,  do  we  say  that 
it  is  worth  our  while  to  forget 
our  old  sins  and  errors,  in  the 
joy  of  that  forgiveness  which  God 
has  provided  to  every  repentant 
sinner.  Forget  them?  It  may 
be  impossible  wholly  to  forget 
them.  The  memory  of  them  will 
stine.     Their  effects  often  remain 


pressing  ©nwarD*      75 


long   after    they   have    been    for- 
given.    As  I  have  said,  Paul  did 
not    literally    forget    them.      He 
mourned  over  them  to  the  day  of 
his  death,  and  even  thought  him- 
self the  chief  of  sinners,  because 
he  had  persecuted  the  Church  of 
God.     But  he  did  not  allow  them 
to    trouble  him  any  longer,   hein- 
ous though  his  sins  had  been,  for 
God's  forgiveness  of   the    repent- 
ant   sinner    is    full  and   complete. 
He   does   not  receive   us  on  pro- 
bation.      He    does    not    promise 
forgiveness  hereafter.     He   offers 
it  now.     "  Though    your   sins    be 
as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  as  white 
as    snow."     He    welcomes    every 
penitent    as    the     father    of    the 
prodigal    did    his  wandering  boy, 
stopping  his    confession  with   the 
kiss  of  love  and  saying,  "  This  my 


76         yoTQettina,   anC> 

son  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again." 
He  forgives  and  forgets.  He 
bears  no  anger.  He  keeps  no 
malice.  He  blots  out  the  record 
of  our  misdeeds.  He  covers  it 
with  the  merits  of  his  blessed 
Son. 

Surely,  then,  it  is  worth  our 
while  to  forget  them  also.  We 
need  not  be  burdened  with  them. 
So  long  as  we  have  not  repented 
of  them,  we  may  well  be  crushed 
under  their  load ;  but  when  we 
have  cast  them  upon  God,  we  are 
forever  free.  Let  them  go  down 
into  the  pit  of  eternal  oblivion. 
Let  there  be  no  phantom  rising 
from  the  grave  of  buried  sins 
to  affritrht  us.  Lookinor  to  the 
•  Christ,  their  power  is  all  gone. 
Oh,  what  a  relief  this  is !  See 
how  men  are  driven  b)  an  accus- 

I 


pressing  ©uwarD.      77 

inor  conscience — lonorina-  for  de- 
liverance  from  themselves,  since 
in  themselves  they  carry  the  ex- 
ecutioner of  broken  law.  Hear 
them  crying  out  for  waters  of 
Lethe  to  drown  the  sting  of 
memory.  Again  see  them  court- 
ing death  in  the  vain  hope  of 
finding  deliverance  from  their 
shame.  But  death  will  brine  no 
deliverance  to  the  impenitent. 
Behold  Divesv  "Son,  remember!" 
There  are  no  waters  of  Lethe. 
There  is  only  one  way  of  secur- 
ing peace  and  forgetfulness — con- 
fession, repentance,  and  faith  in 
Jesus  Christ.  Then  we  may  for- 
Q;et  our  sins  and  errors.  Over 
them  is  sprinkled  the  atoning 
blood.  Justice  is  satisfied;  and 
forgetting  the  things  which  are 
behind,    reaching    forth     for    the 


78         jfcrgetting,   anO 

things  which  are  before,  we  may 
with  elastic  step  and  happy  hearts 
press  toward  the  mark  for  the 
prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God 
in  Christ  Jesus. 

There  are,  then,  some  things 
worth  forgetting.  It  is  not  wise 
nor  right  to  be  forever  halting 
under  the  bondage  of  that  which 
Jesus  Christ  came  to  destroy.  In 
,  order  that  we  may  rise  to  a  higher 
life  we  must  forget  the  lower. 
Why  should  we  be  forever  killing: 
foes  that  are  already  dead,  cling- 
ing to  the  memories  of  things 
whose  purpose  has  been  served, 
dallying  with  toys  when  time  has 
brought  greater  prizes  to  contend 
for,  and  eroaninof  under  sins 
for  which  Christ  has  brought 
redemption  ?  No,  let  us  believe 
and  go  forward.     The  future  will 


{pressing  ©nwar&.      79 

be  better  than  the  past.  The 
way  is  open  ;  on  to  attainment ! 
forward  to  the  victory !  Make 
Jesus  Christ  your  Saviour.  Take 
him  altooether,  and  for  all  he  is. 
Then  will  the  glorious  life  and 
joy  into  which  he  leads  us  swallow 
up  the  doubts  and  fears  and  sins 
of  former  days.  These  will  be 
forgotten  in  the  enjoyment  of 
God's  loving  mercy  and  guiding 
hand.  I  plead  with  you  to  take 
these  truths  to  heart.  Turn  your 
face  heavenward.  Go  forward  to 
the  Promised  Land.  Break  your 
fetters  and  live  for  the  new  things 
which  God  hath  prepared  for 
those  that   love  him. 


••UNTIL THE  DAY  DAW'N'.- 

1 

A  -"  AVI     -  -   ^  ;  - : 

T-£    evtn-i..    itT  is 

I:.,    :.-    --.'::      - 

•    -        -15   :  t-:r; 

---'-      — 7=-    ^  ■    ■ 

bdgfats. 

-^*       -_      — r      z^;.rr_ 

Thedaj  :ipi..^t,. 

:-  i- ;  :-f'r?f  vigor. 

The  darofiricT 

C "-  -                  -  • 

- :  ;  r  ?f  the 

*•  The  things  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal." 
-I  Corinthians  4:  18. 


' '  UNTIL  THE  DAY  DAWN. " 


Awake,  ray  soul!      The   eternal    day  is 
breaking, 
The  darkness  of  the  world  is  pierced 
with  lights, 
And     rays,    prophetic    of     the    morn's 
arising. 
Already    gleam    far    up    the    eastern 
heights. 

The  day  of  painless  life  and  tireless  vigor. 
The  day  of  widening  knowledge  of  the 
best. 
The  day  when  earth's  deceits  and  adum- 
brations 
Shall  change  into  the  truth  in  glory 
dressed. 


84  ''Xllntil  tbe  5)as  Dawn/* 

O    soul   of    mine,    let    not    dull    sleep 
bewitch  thee; 
Let  not  the  gilded  fantasies  of  sense 
Cause  thee   to  slumber   when    heaven's 
light  is  shining, 
And  God's   dear  voice   is  summoning 
thee  hence. 

Thine  earthlj'  life  is  but  a  preparation 
For  grander  toil  and  never-ending  joys. 
Thou  wast  not  meant  to  find  it  satisfac- 
tory, 
Its   keenest    sorrows   are    its   broken 
toys. 

Already  has  thine   opening  eye  caught 
vision 
Of  things  more  real,  of  gladness  more 
profound, 
When,  through  the  rupture  of  this  earth's 
relations. 
The  voice  of  God  and  truth  has  uttered 
sound. 

Then  bend  thy  gaze  to  the  predestined 
future, 
Anticipate  the  life  that  draweth  nigh; 


''UlntU  tbe  2)ai?  Dawn."  85 

Awake,   my  soul,  and  contemplate  the 
portion 
Of  those  whose  lot  is  fixed  with  Christ 
on  high. 

Think  of   the  seed    that  bloometh  into 
flower; 
Think  of  the  thought  that  shapes  itself 
in  deed; 
Think  of  the  chaos  ordered  into  beauty; 
Think  of  the  Child  that  for  the  world 
did  bleed. 

Mark   what    portentous    prophecies    of 
power 
All   these  suggest   as  thine  intended 
goal. 
When   day,  now   breaking,  shall   at  last 
be  entered 
And    the  grand  promise    shall    itself 
unroll. 

Soul!  let  the  voice  of  Christ,  thy  sure 
Forerunner, 
Summon  thee    now  into  the  heavenly 
life. 


86  ''Xllntil  tbe  Bay  S)a\vu." 

Soon  shall  the  brightness  of  the  day  flow 
o'er  thee, 
Soon  peace  shall  end  thy  bitter  earthly 
strife. 

Thine  are  these    mansions;    thine    the 
Father's  bosom; 
Thine  the  high  paths  that  sinless  feet 
have  trod. 
Thine    is    to    be    the    light    that  faileth 
never, 
The  endless    life   of    fellowship    with 
God. 

December  29,  1895. 


THE   TEACHER   AND 
PASTOR. 


From  President  F.  L.  Patton's  address  at  the 
funeral  of  Dr.  Purves. 

We  all  felt  the  terrible  shock  when 
word  came  to  us  on  Wednesday  morning 
that  Dr.  Purves  had  died  suddenly  the 
night  before.  We  knew  that  he  was  suf- 
fering under  an  acute  attack  and  that 
in  recent  months  he  had  been  subject  to 
such  attacks,  but  we  did  not  suppose 
that  his  illness  was  of  a  nature  that  was 
likely  to  prove  fatal. 

This  congregation,  the  First  Presby- 
terian Church  of  Princeton,  the  Prince- 
ton Theological  Seminary,  and  Princeton 
University  have  sustained  a  great  loss. 
All  connected  with  these  institutions 
feel  that  they  have  suffered  a  personal 
bereavement,  for  Dr.  Purves  had  a 
singular     power     of  laying    hold    upon 


88   Ube  'Q;eacber  anC)  ipastoc» 

the  affections  of  those  to  whom  he  stood 
related. 

We  admired  him  as  a  preacher  and  as  a 
teacher.  We  were  impressed  with  his 
goodness  and  with  the  genuineness  of 
his  religious  life,  but,  be3^ond  all  that, 
we  loved  him  as  a  man.  The  story  of 
his  life  is  familiar  to  us  all.  He  was 
born  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia  on  the 
27th  of  February,  1852.  After  gradu- 
ating at  the  University  of  Pennsylvania, 
he  entered  Princeton  Theological  Semi- 
nary, remaining  there  after  the  comple- 
tion of  his  curriculum  for  a  year  of  grad- 
uate study. 

It  was  during  this  year  in  Princeton 
that  he  came  under  the  quickening  in- 
fluence of  his  great  friend  and  teacher, 
the  beloved  Dr.  Caspar  Wistar  Hodge, 
and  that  he  acquired  that  taste  for  New 
Testament  study  which  he  so  assiduously 
cultivated  during  his  two  pastorates  in 
Baltimore  and  Pittsburg,  and  which 
ended  in  his  being  the  unanimous  choice 
of  the  directors  of  the  Princeton  Theo- 
logical Seminary  as  the  successor  of  Dr. 
Hodge. 


Ubc  Ueacber  anD  ipastor.    89 


It  was  a  matter  of  great  doubt  to  him 
and  to  his  friends  whether  he  should  give 
up  the  pulpit  to  take  the  professor's 
chair,  for  he  had  singular  qualifications 
for  both  positions.  He  was  an  eloquent 
preacher,  and  his  services  were  especially 
acceptable  to  young  men,  who  came  in 
throngs  to  hear  him  on  Sunday  evenings. 

He  also  had  special  qualifications  as 
a  teacher.  He  was  a  ripe  scholar,  and 
what  was  a  very  important  factor  in  the 
case,  he  knew,  as  few  men  know,  how  to 
show  the  bearing  of  accurate,  minute 
exegetical  study  of  the  Bible  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  pulpit.  These  facts,  added 
to  his  warmth  of  temperament,  gave 
him  great  facility  in  dealing  with  theo- 
logical students. 

None  who  had  the  privilege  of  being 
his  pupil  will  ever  forget  his  hospitality. 
His  house  was  their  home,  and  they  were 
always  welcomed  to  his  table.  Many  a 
young  minister  in  the  service  of  the 
church  to-day  will  recall  his  relations  to 
Dr.  Purves,  and  the  hospitality  of  his 
home,  as  the  brightest  memory  of  his 
seminary  days. 


90   XTbe  TIeacber  anC>  jpastor* 


It  is  rare  that  we  find  a  man  equally 
capable  to  do  the  work  of  the  pulpit  and 
the  professor's  chair.  And  while  each 
sphere  furnishes  ample  opportunities  for 
anyone,  still,  in  rare  cases,  it  is  perhaps 
well  to  allow  those  who  are  fitted  to  do 
so  to  fill  both  positions.  When,  there- 
fore. Dr.  Purves,  as  stated  supply  to  the 
First  Presbyterian  Church  of  Princeton, 
and  afterwards  its  pastor,  added  the 
duties  of  the  pulpit  to  those  of  his  pro- 
fessorship, it  was  felt  to  be  advantageous 
to  the  best  interests  of  all  concerned. 

During  his  life  in  Princeton  he  had 
frequent  invitations  from  prominent 
churches  to  become  their  pastor,  but  he 
declined.  Through  all,  I  believe,  he  felt 
that  his  heart  was  in  the  work  of  his 
chair,  and  that  with  a  dual  position  of 
pastor  and  professor,  he  had  the  widest 
scope  for  the  exercise  of  his  best  powers, 
and  the  fullest  opportunity  for  the  reali- 
zation of  his  highest  ambitions.  I  think 
I  do  not  misrepresent  him  when  I  say  it. 
But  when  the  pulpit  of  this  church  be- 
came vacant,  the  eyes  of  the  congregra- 
tion  turned  to  him.     Occupying  a  fore- 


XTbe  Ueacber  auD  pastor*    91 

most  place  in  the  denomination  to  which 
it  belongs,  it  called  for  a  strong  man 
who  could  administer  with  great  ability 
its  affairs  and  maintain  the  high  standard 
of  spiritual  preaching  set  by  Dr.  James 
W,  Alexander,  Dr.  Rice,  and  Dr.  Hall. 

You  made  no  mistake,  my  dear  friends, 
when  you  felt  that  the  one  man  to  fill 
this  vacant  place  in  the  American  pulpit, 
and  to  be  added  to  his  great  succession, 
was  Dr.  Purves.  We  were  loath  to  have 
him  leave  Princeton,  and  there  were 
some,  perhaps,  who  were  never  satisfied 
respecting  the  wisdom  of  his  decision, 
but  most  of  us  thought  that  the  interests 
of  the  Church  at  large  transcended  all 
local  interests,  and  that  they  would  be 
best  subserved  by  his  acceptance  of  its 
call.  He  entered  upon  the  duties  here 
with  enthusiasm.  His  heart  and  his 
head  were  enlisted  to  their  utmost  efforts 
in  the  work  of  this  church,  and  he  soon 
found  himself  absorbed  in  the  many  reli- 
gious and  philanthropic  enterprises  that 
consume  the  time  and  exhaust  the  energy 
of  ministers  of  large  churches  in  great 
cities.     I  do  not  think  he  worked  harder 


92    Jibe  XTeacber  ant)  {pastor. 


in  New  York  than  he  did  in  Princeton, 
for  Dr.  Purves  was  a  man  who  did  with 
all  his  might  what  his  hands  found  to  do. 
One  rarely  finds  a  man  with  such 
capacity  for  hard  work  and  varied  work. 
When  he  sustained  the  dual  relation  of 
pastor  and  professor  in  Princeton,  he 
never  allowed  the  duties  of  one  sphere 
of  labor  to  be  an  excuse  for  slighting  the 
other  sphere  of  labor.  He  was  always 
up  to  date  in  the  literature  of  his  depart- 
ment, notwithstanding  the  exacting  calls 
of  his  parish.  Nor  did  he  find  an  easy 
mode  of  preparation  for  the  pulpit  by 
giving  his  theological  lectures  a  homi- 
letical  form.  Indeed  I  sometimes  thought 
it  would  have  been  well  if  he  had  brought 
some  of  his  New  Testament  studies  into 
the  pulpit.  This  was  Dr.  Hodge's  method, 
and  his  sermons  were  all  studies  in  bibli- 
cal theology;  but  I3r.  Purves,  though  al- 
ways a  preacher  to  whom  theological 
students  listened  with  delight  for  hours, 
was  not  distinctively  a  preacher  to  theo- 
logical students.  He  was  very  compre- 
hensive and  varied  in  his  range  of  topics 
for  the  pulpit,  and  was  equally  accept- 


XTbe  Ueacber  ant)  pastor.    93 

able  to  the  undergraduates  of  the  uni- 
versity and  to  the  men  and  women  who 
constitute  the  congregations  of  great 
cities. 

We  cannot  understand  Dr.  Purves  as 
a  preacher  or  as  teacher  unless  we  know 
him  as  a  man.  He  had  a  warm  heart;  he 
had  a  keen  eye,  a  good  memory  for  names 
and  faces.  He  seemed  to  know  more 
people  in  Princeton  than  anyone  else. 
He  never  loitered  or  dreamed;  he  was 
alert,  active,  energetic,  interested  in  all 
good  work.  The  movements  of  his  mind, 
like  those  of  his  body,  were  quick.  He 
was  religious  without  being  austere,  just 
as  he  was  companionable  without  being 
worldly.  He  touched  human  life  at  a 
great  many  points.  As  a  New  Testa- 
ment specialist,  it  was  his  business  to  be 
familiar  with  the  literature  and  progressof 
the  Apostolic  period.  How  much  he  had 
made  himself  master  of  that  period  his 
"Apostolic  Age  "*  will  testify.  But  he 
had  a  wider  range  of  thought  than  that.  I 
have  heard  him  preach  Thanksgiving  ser- 
mons that  involved  much  thought,  the  re- 
*  Apostolic  Age.     Scribner's,  1900. 


94   Xibe  ^eacber  ant)  pastor. 

suit  of  much  reading  and  clear  thinking 
upon  political  science.  While  he  was  far 
from  being  disposed  to  allow  sociology  to 
supersede  theology,  yet  he  recognized 
that  the  Gospel  had  great  bearing  on 
social  questions,  and  he  was  deeply  in- 
terested in  all   sociological  movements. 

But  when  we  judge  him  as  a  teacher, 
we  must  judge  him  rather  by  his  influ- 
ence upon  the  minds  of  his  pupils  than 
by  the  products  of  his  pen,  scholarly  and 
creditable  as  they  always  were.  For  in 
a  department  that  is  so  full  of  activity 
as  that  of  New  Testament  literature,  it 
is  only  by  incessant  study  that  one  can 
do  much  original  work. 

A  great  teacher  cannot  always  be  an 
author,  and  a  great  author  is  not  always 
the  best  teacher.  Ur.  Purves,  as  all  his 
students  will  testify,  was  a  great  teacher, 
and  by  common  consent  he  held,  and  is 
recognized  as  having  held,  a  foremost 
place  in  the  American  pulpit.  He  was 
not  a  controversial  preacher.  He  was 
not  a  theological  preacher.  He  was  not 
a  literary  preacher,  though  he  had  com- 
mand   of   a   finished    style.     Philosophy 


r 


Ubc  Ueacber  auD  ipastor.    95 


had  little  place  in  his  sermons,  and  he 
made  no  use  of  the  sensational  topics  of 
the  day.  He' was  eloquent  rather  than 
brilliant.  His  sermons  were  always 
spiritual.  They  were  compactly,  sys- 
tematically organized,  with  no  parade  of 
logic.  Of  no  one  could  it  be  more 
truly  said  than  of  him,  that  his  coming 
among  you  was  not  with  the  wisdom  of 
enticing  words  of  man's  pleasing,  but  in 
demonstration  of  the  Spirit  and  of  power, 
and  that  he  determined  to  know  nothing 
among  you  save  Jesus  Christ  a  nd  him 
crucified.  He  was  not  ashamed  of  the 
Gospel  of  Christ,  believing  it  to  be  the 
power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God 
unto  salvation. 

I  have  spoken  of  Dr.  Purves  as  I  knew 
him.  I  have  spoken  of  him  in  reference 
to  his  wide  relations,  because  I  believe 
that  he  belongs  to  the  church  at  large, 
but  I  do  not  forget  that  the  special 
grief  of  this  occasion  falls  upon  this 
bereaved  congregation.  He  was  a  great 
preacher,  but  he  was  more  than  that,  he 
was  a  great  pastor.  How  comforting  he 
was  to  the  bereaved;  how  prompt  he  was 


96   XTbe  Zleacber  ant>  pastor. 

to  visit  the  sick;  how  uplifting  and  ten- 
der his  prayers;  how  precious  the  com- 
munion seasons  which  you  and  I  and 
others  in  Princeton  and  elsewhere  have 
enjoyed  under  his  ministrations! 

There  are  men  who  are  great  in  the 
pulpit,  but  who  find  the  obligations  of 
the  pulpit  are  such  that  they  leave  them 
no  time  for  pastoral  visitation.  There 
are  men  who  are  great  in  other  spheres 
who  give  their  best  efforts  to  the  reviews 
and  journals,  and  give  what  time  is  left 
to  the  pulpit.  Dr.  Purves  gave  his  best 
to  his  congregation — heart  and  soul  and 
spirit  he  gave  to  them. 

And  now  that  he  is  gone,  it  is  with  a 
full  consciousness  of  our  loss  that  we 
mourn  him.  The  loss  is  ours,  not  his. 
Our  hearts  bleed  for  those  who  are  left 
behind.  We  raise  anxious  questions, 
when  men  like  him  are  called  away,  as  to 
who  shall  fill  the  vacant  place.  But  we 
do  not  murmur.  For  him  to  live  was 
Christ  and  to  die  was  gain. 


Date 

Due 

i*      -^  ""    'rii' 

TACULi . 

* 

wSwwiffiii 


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